


Tectonic Shift

by MachaSWicket



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachaSWicket/pseuds/MachaSWicket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY: <b>Movie SPOILERS</b>. What happens after Veronica & Logan come down from that higher plane they reached up against a pillar in Keith Mars' lovely home?  <i>Adult content – please read responsibly.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tectonic Shift

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine.
> 
> THANKS: To VictoriaSinclair and Ghostcat for taking a look at this.

When Logan can breathe again, he eases Veronica back to her feet and steadies her against the pillar. His entire body is still thrumming with release, and he doesn't know what to say, doesn't think the complicated jumble of emotions he's feeling is something he could put into words anyway. 

He presses his forehead against hers, can't look away from her. Hell, he can't even get his breathing under control, which might embarrass him a bit if her chest wasn't heaving against him. Veronica doesn't speak, just leans closer and presses a kiss to his chest, his neck, his jaw, until his fingers tighten on her ass. 

Easing back, he stares down at her, into those wide, expressive blue eyes. She kisses him again, then steps sideways, away from the pillar, away from him, and he's suddenly sure he's misread this. Because the sex felt like a rekindling to him, but maybe for her it was a reaction to her hours of fear and stress. 

He freezes, unsure what he should do. Because however strongly he'd been attracted to her since he saw her at the airport, he hadn't expected anything like this. He has no idea what's supposed to happen next. 

Already missing her, he drops his hands from her hips. But Veronica stops, her head tilting a bit, a small smile appearing, and he drinks in a relieved gasp of air. She reaches for his hand, tugs on it to get him moving. Logan gathers his pants up with his free hand, stumbling for a moment. 

He trails behind her to the guest bedroom, the pull-out bed where he'd tucked her in not a half hour earlier. Only this time, he's not taking care of a dozing, exhausted woman, he's following a lover to bed. It's a tectonic shift, and he's still unsteady on his feet.

Veronica turns back to him. His shirt is half-open, buttons missing, and she smiles at his chest. “Sorry about your shirt,” she says, and she's not sorry at all. 

Logan smirks. “You _literally_ ripped my clothes off.” He releases her hand, grabs the edges of his ruined shirt, and pulls it over his head. “Don't _ever_ apologize for that.”

“Noted.” Veronica reaches for his pants, already undone and hanging low off of his hips. “Off.” 

“Bossy,” he says, and grins, even as he kicks off his shoes and pushes his pants and boxer briefs down. He's not sure what's happening here, what any of this means yet, but she wants him here. And he wants more than anything to crawl into that bed with her. “Better?”

There's a play of emotions across her face -- almost too quick for him to read. Affection, sadness, lust, maybe gratitude. Veronica lifts her nightshirt, pulls it off, and shakes her hair back into place. “Better,” she says. 

He can see her uncertainty, and he reaches out, trails two fingers down her arm and she shivers. “You're beautiful, Veronica,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Always.” And she was -- curvier than in college, her body strong and responsive. And goddamn, her breasts are gorgeous. He is impatient to taste her skin.

The living room was emotion and connection; now he wants physical. He wants touch and taste and scent. He wants all of her.

She hooks her thumbs in her panties, but Logan reaches for her with restrained desperation. “Let me.” His fingertips skim along the warm skin at her waist, dip under the elastic of her panties, and he eases them down her legs. 

She shivers at his touch. “I missed you.” Her voice shakes. “I missed this.”

Logan thinks he might be trembling himself -- honest emotion from Veronica, offered up without prompting. He would have died for this in college; it still affects him pretty strongly now.

He reaches for her hand, urges her toward the bed. She drops onto the mattress, then tugs him down after her. Wrapping his arms around her, he breathes in the faintest citrus scent of her shampoo. She's all warm skin as she slips her knee between his thighs, snuggles closer until their foreheads are nearly touching. 

“I missed this,” Logan breathes, his palm pressing against her spine. He'd missed all of it. He'd missed her, but she's been gone so long he'd forgotten how much. He'd forgotten how warm and _alive_ she felt in his arms. He can't believe he'd forgotten how at home he feels in hers.

Her hand skims along his bicep. “Logan,” she pauses, her voice strained and a little awkward now. Logan pauses, waiting. “The thing with Piz.” She looks up, meets his gaze directly. “It ended. It was already over before...” She waves her hand in the direction of the living room. “I didn't want you to think--”

“I didn't,” he interrupts, relieved she hadn't been trying to tell him something upsetting. “I know you, Veronica.” She studies him, clearly puzzled, and Logan shrugs. “You're... honorable.” It's a strange word in the moment, but that doesn't make it untrue.

A smile lights up her face. “I pimped you out to Ruby Jetson,” she points out.

Logan groans, but can't quite suppress his laugh. “Why would you bring that up in bed?” 

She smiles, leans up, and kisses him. His arm comes around her, pulls her flush against him, and he can't quite contain a moan at the feel of her. She kisses him slowly and tenderly, and he can feel all the things she hasn't said. He thinks maybe this isn't about adrenaline, or about her dad's condition, or about anything other than the two of them.

Logan deepens the kiss, eases her onto her back, leaning up on his elbows. Every time he opens his eyes and looks down at her, some small part of him is startled that this isn't actually a fever dream. 

He kisses her chin, her throat, sliding down to tongue her breast. Her breath catches, and he hums a laugh against her skin. His fingers brush down her rib cage, and she clutches at his back. He's hard again, but unconcerned at the moment with anything other than the woman beneath him.

He takes his time, shifting to her other breast, skimming his fingers along her skin until she's shaking. He's always been able to read her body, always been a quick study when it comes to making her moan.

Logan eases himself lower, glancing up at her for confirmation. Veronica's face is flushed, her lips parted, and when she meets his gaze, she nods, squirming a bit in anticipation. He shifts abruptly, sliding down further, slipping an arm beneath her thigh to open her to him. 

“God,” she mutters, her hips lifting, wordlessly begging for more. “Logan.” 

“Missed this,” he murmurs against her inner thigh, and when he slides his tongue against her clit, she nearly levitates off the bed. She gasps his name, and he can't quite stifle his soft laugh in response. He's pretty sure if he gives her a second to catch her breath, she'll box his ears for it, so he settles in.

He's always loved this, always loved working her body with his mouth and his fingers. She'd been embarrassed when he went down on her the first time, her thighs shaking against his ears; today, she's got her fingers in his hair, holding him close, lifting her hips for a better angle, more pressure. 

He knows when she's close -- even nine years later, he remembers those soft gasping breaths she takes when she's reaching for her orgasm. He slides a finger inside of her, crooks it just right, and then she's arching, moaning.

“Logan,” she gasps, her fingernails scratching along his scalp. When she shifts her leg, he eases his hands away, swipes the back of his wrist across his mouth, and moves so he can rest his chin on her hip.

Her eyes are still closed, her breathing labored, and Logan very much enjoys the view. He's hard as a fucking rock, but in absolutely no hurry. He'll bring her off a couple more times with his tongue if she wants him to.

When she's recovered enough to open her eyes, she reaches for him, curling her fingers around his bicep and tugging. He kisses her navel and crawls up her body, keeping his weight mostly on his forearms. 

“Hi,” he says, and then kisses her chastely. She snickers against his lips, and he pulls back. “What?”

“Nothing, just--” And she starts to laugh.

Logan watches, confused. Veronica looks at him and manages, “No, not--” before she's laughing harder, shaking beneath him. He moves to lie beside her, and Veronica rolls closer. “Just,” she says, her voice high and thin with laughter, “it's been forever, but I definitely did _not_ exaggerate--” She breaks up again, pressing her forehead against his chest, her fingers curled against his ribs.

And he's laughing with her, even as he asks, “Exaggerate what?”

She's still giggling in little bursts, trying to bring herself under control. She looks up at him, “How fucking _good_ you are at that.”

Logan knows he shouldn't feel smug about that, but goddamn, Veronica basically confirmed he's the best she's ever had, orally speaking. And he feels like he's earned some sort of prize. He would proudly walk around with a service ribbon for that pinned to his chest – _Gets Veronica Off Best – Oral Division_. 

“Oh, yeah?” He smirks down at her. “Just that?”

“Not _just_ that,” she assures him, her eyes sparkling and devious. “But maybe _especially_ that.”

His chest clenches, pride and all of this other emotion all tangled up together, and he kisses her, suddenly desperate. She's right there with him, her arms circling his neck, pulling him closer. 

“Please,” he mutters, not sure what he's even asking for. 

But Veronica is moving, her hand low on his hip, urging him onto his back. She moves to straddle him and he runs his fingers up her spine, groaning at the feel of her wet heat against his cock. 

She pulls back, bracing her hands on his chest. “I'm on birth control,” she says, “And I'm good.” She shrugs, and his gaze falls momentarily to her breasts. “I should've said that before.”

He nods emphatically. “I'm good. Got tested, after.” After Carrie, he means. After her cheating and her shooting up, but he doesn't want to bring that into bed with them. Doesn't want to think about things outside of this room, so he puts his palm against her shoulder blade and pulls her to him. “C'mere.”

She kisses him, rough and quick, then sits back up, reaching for him and easing herself down onto him. 

Logan groans, his fingers tight on her hips. “Fuck.”

“Yup,” she says with a grin, “That's the idea.”

He huffs a laugh, but then she shifts, beginning to move, and he can't snark back at her. Goddamn, she feels fucking amazing. 

It's less frantic than before, at least at first. Slower, more measured. But soon he's rolling them over, and kissing her laughing mouth. “Control freak,” she murmurs against his lips.

He wishes, but his control is slipping, his movements jerkier and more desperate. He balances on his palms, because he knows the angle is better for her. He can tell she's not close, and he tries to slow his thrusts. But Veronica shakes her head, her hand landing on his ass to pull him hard and rough against her. The pressure of her fingernails startles him, and he jerks. “Come for me,” she says, and that's almost enough.

Logan groans, his pulse pounding in his ears as he drops to his forearms. She shifts beneath him, and leans up, licking along his collarbone. And then she whispers, “Logan,” and he feels her teeth right where his neck meets his chest, right where she knows it'll bring him over the edge. She bites down, lightly but enough, and he's coming, back arched, groaning nonsense and her name and God's.

Logan drops back onto his forearms, his face in the crook of her neck. He can feel her cheek moving against his when she smiles. 

When he can breathe again, he pulls away, landing on his hip beside her. He caresses her breast, smooths his hand along her abdomen, but she catches it and tangles their fingers together. “Too much,” she says. 

Logan looks down at her, considering. “You sure? I could--”

“I'm fine, Logan,” she interrupts with a grin. She turns toward him, cupping his cheek. “I'm good. I'm happy.”

He's not sure how much to read into that, so instead he gives her his best smug look. “If you're happy, I'm happy.”

“I am,” she assures him, leaning closer to kiss him, slow and soft. She shifts, getting more comfortable, reaching up to bunch up the pillow. “I'm exhausted,” she admits.

“Well,” he smirks, “I did wear you out.”

Veronica rolls her eyes and lightly punches his chest. “You wish.” Her hand flattens against his muscle. “And by the way, when did all _this_ happen?” she says, smoothing her hand down to his belly.

“Officer Candidate School,” he answers truthfully. 

Veronica grins. “Go, Navy.”

“Beat Army,” he answers immediately.

She laughs, her eyes drifting closed as she snuggles closer. Logan runs his fingers down her arm, settles his hand along her back. He's had trouble sleeping the last few nights, but he doesn't think it'll be a problem tonight with Veronica curled up against him.

She moves, and when he looks at her, her eyes are open, but she's examining his shoulder with a sudden fascination. “You're staying?” she asks, and there's an undercurrent of uncertainty.

“Veronica.” Logan waits until she meets his gaze. “Yes, I'm staying.” He smiles, doesn't let himself second guess it when he adds, “As long as you'll have me.”

She smiles but doesn't answer. Her eyes drift closed, and her face softens. 

Logan closes his eyes.

END


End file.
